


Yes, Mr. Wick

by ConfessionsOfACookie



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10085156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionsOfACookie/pseuds/ConfessionsOfACookie
Summary: Many things can happen during a hot Venetian Night.The reader wears a dress during a masked ball that John teaches her why she shouldn't be a bad girl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N = the reader's name eg. Jane

**Yes Mr. Wick**

I pushed through the door into the room I was staying in and as always, the Gothic decor assaulted me. I found it to be too garish with its milk chocolate crown molded walls and ceiling decorated with golden baroque and filigree design. The fixtures were probably pure gold.

I ripped the feathered silver mask from my head and tossed it onto the king size bed. I swirled and scoffed at its size; too big for just _one_ person. The plush upholstery itself was a nightmare, being a deep sensual magenta colour. I grunted frustrated, no one to share that with either.

I squeaked as a large hand clamped over my mouth and banded itself round my ribs trapping my arms and me in the process. I stilled as my heart hammered away in my chest. The person holding me captive inhaled deeply.

Wait, were they smelling me?

“You smell nice,” rumbled a voice in my ear “, you’re such a bad girl, you have no idea what you’re doing to me in that dress.”

Involuntarily I shivered at the sound of his voice.

I was spun round to face my captor- John Wick - his arm still keeping me in place. The hand used to cover my mouth now traced the shell of my ear.

He ran his nose caressingly up my neck and nipped at my ear lobe “, and do you know what happens to bad girls?”

He pulled back and looked at me, I shook my head. Grasping my chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger “, when you speak to me you say yes Mr. Wick or no Mr. Wick. Yes?”

“Yes Mr. Wick,” I mumbled, the hammering of my heart going from fear to expectation.

“Good. When I release you, you’re not to move, understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Wick.”

He released me and stepped back and surveyed me, a personal smile on his face. Slowly he walked around me, taking in every inch of the emerald décolletage neckline, the low scoop at the back of the dress, the slit that reached to my mid-right thigh and the fluidness in which it slid over my curves.  I felt my body flame with heat and a warmth pool in my core. He came around to face me again.

“Take it off,” he commanded.

“I need a little help,” I admonished and offered him my back.

Placing a kiss on the nap of my neck he unzipped the evening gown. I slid it off and watched it pool around my feet. I stood before him in my underwear, a strapless black lace corset, ribbon and fishnet stockings.

I looked to him awaiting further instruction, excitation making me almost buzz. I smiled at him and then to myself.

He like myself had just come from the masked ball, albeit the mask was missing. He was typically dressed, in his tailored three, piece grey and black suit, with the matching tie.

“Wh -,” I began before I was cut off.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asked gruffly.

I shook my head, he growled and ripped the grey tie from his neck.

He grasped my wrists and bound them together tightly with the tie “, you need to be taught a lesson of when to speak and what to say.”

Roughly he dragged me to the bed and set me in the middle where he bound the tie to the headboard. Nimbly he hopped over me and ripped off the satin sash that held the deep magenta curtain. Slowly he approached the bed, I could feel my panties soaking with my fluids. He wound the sash round his hands and paused at the head of the bed.

“Lift your head,” he instructed.

I complied and gently he tied the fabric over my eyes shielding my view of the world. A thrill ran through my body. I clamped my legs shut and scissored them together. I needed him, wanted him, just a touch, something and I needed it now. I hated how he was making me wait, but at the same time it set me on fire.  

The bed sunk by my right hip, then my left. Warmth from a large body washed over me. The slight mist of cologne, heady but subtle mixed with the smoke of the room and alcohol was intoxicating. I groaned and strained against my bonds, rubbing my legs together for the friction I craved.

Large hands pulled my legs apart and a warm body settled between them.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

I threw my head back and groaned frustrated.

He chuckled, low and deep. The pillows sunk by my head and the warmth of his body increased. God, I wanted to touch him!

His beard brushed my cheek as he ghosted his lips down my neck, nipping at my ear. A deep kiss was placed into the crook of my neck, possessively he nipped and sucked it into a bruise. I moaned and arched my body up to meet him, my sensitive peaked nipples rubbing on the netted fabric of my corset.

His head retreated and I whined in complaint “, now everyone can see that you’re mine.”

Roughly he pushed my arched body back into the bed “, stay down.”

I was trembling now, my body wanting and on edge, thrilled in anticipation that came it too little touches and not in the right areas. This was torture, he was making me wait in the most punishing way possible.

He grasped my breasts and squeezed them, I sighed with pleasure and sunk my head into the pillow. He kneaded them, squeezing and pulling, all the while his thumb rolled my nipples.

Suddenly he stopped, I grunted and tried to sit up from the loss of contact. I was pushed back into the bed.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay down?” he whispered.

“Yes Mr. Wick,” I grumbled.

Something clicked by my ear and a cold, thin metal was pressed to my cheek “, are you going to do what I tell you now?”

I shivered when the cold of the metal touched my flesh, goose bumps traveling in its wake.

The metal, trailed from my cheek down to the valley of my breasts where it waited “, yes Mr. Wick.”

“Good.”

A slicing noise filled the air and I felt my lace corset fall apart. The cool air of the room hit my exposed body and I shivered slightly. I didn’t think I could feel anymore arousal than I did at this moment. The cool blade moved to my hips, every touch heightened by my lack of sight. The metal slid beneath the fabric of my hips and sliced through it, the same was done for the other side. My underwear was ripped from me and I moaned.

I needed him and I needed him now.

Then as if an angel heard me “, do you want me?”

“Yes Mr. Wick,” I croaked happily.

His legs spread my thighs further apart and I licked my lips expectantly.

At the first flick of his tongue I was already on the verge of release. Hot and smooth it slid against my sensitive bud earning a silent cry. He sucked and licked, flicking his tongue over the engorged bundle of nerves. I writhed under his tongue. I yanked on the bonds holding me, straining my hands against them, the fabric cutting into my soft flesh.

I was nearing an orgasm, the warmth pooling, totally consuming and rising. Suddenly he stopped and pulled back. I opened my mouth to speak but shut it knowing he’ll only punish me more by making me wait.

“Good girl, you’ve learnt your lesson,” he rasped “, do you want more.”

Through gritted teeth I responded “, Yes Mr. Wick.”

He chuckled and I heard a zipper being undone, I almost came at the sound. So long he made me wait, so damn long.

The pillow sunk on the right side of my head. I was breathing like I had ran a marathon and my heart was beating just as fast. I felt him position himself at my entrance before sinking in with a solid stroke. I gasped harshly at the sudden force, as soon as he slid in he pulled out and slammed back in to the hilt with the same force. His pelvis hitting mines with an audible smack. He kept a brutal pace, retreating to the tip before hammering back in with a powerful stroke. My hips arched to meet him, stroke for stroke, absorbing everything he was giving.

He slashed through the binds on my hands and lifted me up. I ripped the blindfold from my eyes as he tossed the blade across the room. He pulled out and planted me face first into the bed, the flat of his palm pressed into my back holding me down. The other hiked up my hips where he then slid back in and kept up his brutal pace. I moaned into the pillow. I shifted my head and saw our joining, the black tufted hair that trailed from his navel, his towering form and his hair in inky black spikes framing his face.

My insides were throbbing and beginning to spasm, the warmth I had initially felt rising insurmountably threatening to shatter me. His hand slipped from the sweat on my back and landed beside my shoulder. I shattered in a scream, John’s name on my lips as I came. John continued, riding me through the pleasure, my legs going weak and all that supported me was his strong arm lifting my hips.

He himself was near as his thrusts became more erratic. He came with an explosion as he filled me with warmth from the inside. He collapsed on top of me.

“Y/N,” he groaned over and over.

Stroking my hair, he placed a kiss atop my head before rolling off onto his back. Still on my stomach I shifted my head to look at his naked, sweat coated body. He looked to me and smiled. I smiled back and crawled onto his chest.

“When’d you take off your clothes?” I murmured into his chest.

“You need to listen a little bit more carefully,” he replied, his chest rumbling beneath my ear.

I kissed his chest, tired, sore but happy “, yes Mr. Wick.”

This earned me another chuckle.

 


End file.
